“Ugh, where did I put my leggings this time?” I exclaim loud enough for the whole house to hear.
My step-brother thinks I don’t realise he uses his shapeshifting powers to imitate my clothing. The little pervert. As if I didn’t notice the first time my panties constricted so tight against my ass they were practically groping it. I set my phone to record that night, catching his pantified form wriggling out of my laundry hamper while I slept.
Why haven’t I gone running to mom? Or the police? Simple. Because he makes the best clothes a girl could dream of.
When I wear him as a sports bra, the level of support he gives cuddling up against my breasts is unreal. I can jog for hours and never got sore. As panties, his shapeshifting keeps him forever pristine, even when I’m on my period. He's self-washing, self-ironing.
And as leggings, his elasticated form hugs every inch like a second skin. My boyfriend loves the sight of my ass in him. I'm ashamed to say there's been a few nights where he's blown his load all over my leggings, and I've had to bundle poor step-brother into the washing machine.
Given the choice of real clothing or him, I choose him every time.
From the other room comes a soft ‘flumph’ of fabric hitting the floor. I give him a moment before peeking my head in.
“There they are!” I say happily, pretending not to notice my brother's phone, wallet, and glasses scattered around the crumpled leggings as I take him, stretch him out, and slip my feet into him. Since he is such well behaved clothing, I give him a little show, teasing him slowly up my legs, and wriggling him up over my plump ass before snapping him tightly into place.
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